


Stay Alive

by CowKing



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Bullying, But the characters are NOT associated with their real life counterparts, Child Abuse, Childhood Trauma, Don't Read If Easily Triggered, Edd is in denial that he did something wrong, Edds looks more like his real life counterpart than his Eddsworld self, Edgy songs, Eduardo's an asshole at first, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fighting, Fluff, He's also a weeb that watches Hentai during class, High School AU, Hurt/Comfort, I can't write songs I'm using existing ones, I have no idea how the British education system is like sorry, I'm lowkey using this fic to vent, Jealousy, Just pretend they're original in this world, Leave him alone he's been through a lot, Like Three Days Grace edgy, Lots of Cursing, Lots of OOC moments, M/M, Pat doesn't exist because you PauPat shippers ruin everything, Probably not for the faint of heart, School is based on my experience in American high schools, Self-Harm, Slow Burn, Slurs, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, That doesn't make him a good person though, There's probably gonna be a lot of messed up stuff, There's still going to be a lot of music, This started off as a High School Band AU but I can't write music in general ??, Tomuardo is endgame sorry not sorry, Tord is pining after Tom, Tord is plotting something, Underage Drinking, Underage Drug Use, offensive slurs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-01-24 13:55:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21339328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CowKing/pseuds/CowKing
Summary: After having moved to a new town over a summer, Tom finds himself thrown into a new school with new people. And after having a bad first impression with Eduardo, he can't help but feel entranced with the troubled bully until eventually, they're head over heels with each other.AKA - Me listening to Never Too Late by Three Days Grace and thinking "Hm, I can turn this into a Tomuardo fanfic"
Relationships: Eduardo/Tom (Eddsworld), One-sided Tom/Tord (Eddsworld) - Relationship, Tom/Tord (Eddsworld)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 22





	1. Chapter 1

When Tom first moved to the hellhole that was this new town he found himself in, he wasn’t expecting everyone residing in it to be such a fucking bore. 

Despite the official population being roughly 10 thousand, it felt like it was more like ten, considering that he sees the same goddamn people every time he walks down the road to go to the nearest McDonald’s. Their routines were static, always doing the same things every day of every week of every month of every year. They say the same thing, do the same thing, and act the same way. There was nothing in this town that sparks any kind of uniqueness out to him. 

Not to mention everyone in this town were goody-two-shoes. After one failed attempt to get himself a bottle of vodka with a fake ID, word got around so fast that by the end of the day every liquor store owner within the county could recognize his face and deny him alcohol instantly. 

By the time he tried the third store, he was straight up furious, kicking the décor outside the small building as he cursed under his grumbly breath. Of course, it caught the attention of a loitering kid nearby that looked about Tom’s age. His face was paler than the damn moon itself, with a pair with dark eyes that popped well with the matching black eye shadow he wore. His short hair was a dark maroon color, that would’ve given a neatly cut appearance if it wasn’t for the two hairy horns that could give the Devil himself a run for his money. He pulled the dark trench coat that clung onto his body even closer to himself as he approached Tom, holding out his hand towards him. After a few moments of confusing silence, the boy gestured his head towards the money that was grasped in Tom’s hands. Tom didn’t know why he did it, but he placed the cash into the other’s hand, who walked right into the liquor store, only to emerge a couple minutes later with a bottle of Smirnoff tucked in his jacket. Tom watched as this kid shoved the bottle into the teen’s hands and walked off, sending himself off with a snarky grin. 

Finally, an interesting fucking character in this shitty town. 

Not that it mattered anyway. After that, he didn’t see him for the entire summer. Which sucked, really, he seemed like a fascinating individual. 

Without the company of others, Tom spent the majority of the summer laying on top of his new home’s roof, getting drunk and staring up at the stars. Sometimes, when something comes to him, he’ll grab his bass and his notebook and write it down. Most of his notes consisted of what he truly felt in that moment, every word of a sentence could strike a chord inside him in some way that could send him down a spiral if he thought about it too much. He tells himself that once he’s sober, he’ll somehow strum the words together to make a coherent song, but he just can’t look at the notes a second time. 

By the time summer was over, the only thing Tom managed to do was destroy more brain cells than he thought he had, and honestly, he would’ve continued if his mother didn’t recommend he goes to school. 

That first morning was the fucking worse, having to wake up at the ungodly hour of 6 to give him enough time to get his shit together and all. Of course, he was hungover from the night before, just because he had school the next morning doesn't mean he’s not skipping out on his nightly binge. 

As Tom was heading out the door, he noticed his mother, whom he inherited his odd eye quirk from, passed out on the couch with her own empty bottle of vodka in her hands. He waved goodbye to her, as if she was awake, before taking off. 

The walk wasn’t that long, and it looked like everyone was pouring into the small looking school at the same time. The halls were packed, the stench of teenagers neglectful of their personal hygiene filled his nose, and the raging hormones overwhelmed the atmosphere around him. Already Tom was ready to turn right back around to head home. 

That was before a familiar black sleeved arm wrapped around the eyeless teen’s shoulder. 

“Well, well, well.” The other teen started, his thick Norwegian accent was like a sweet melody to Tom’s ears, “If it isn’t my new eyeless friend! Velkommen til helvete!” Tom could feel the other pushing his back, forcing him forward through what seemed to be an endless hallway, swearing in his native tongue at the people who did not move out of their way the second they saw him, which was few and far between anyway since the moment anyone sensed the presence of the dark hair teen they did everything they could to get far away from him. This went on until they finally reached the end of the corridor and into what seemed to be an entry hall, which provided the space Tom needed to breathe and not take in the smell of sweat and sex. 

“You must have quite the reputation here.” Tom theorized, “They act like they’re terrified of you.” 

The teen laughed, slapping Tom’s back harshly, “Act? That is true fear in their eyes, min venn! They know very well what I can do to them if they anger me!” He paused, his threatening remark still lingering in the air as he kept his toothy grin, “Ah, where are my manners!? My name is Tord!” He took a bow, taking the British teen’s hand into his own and planting a kiss on the top of it. Tom honestly couldn’t tell if he was doing this in a joking sense, if this was some foreign thing, or if he was flirting with him, “Deilig å møte deg~” 

The kid really likes his Norwegian, that’s for sure. 

“Tom,” The eyeless teen responded, “Thanks for the vodka, by the way.” 

Tord got back up, wrapping his arm back around Tom. Affectionate, this one is, “Oh, no problem! I heard about you and your little problem and thought you could use a hand.” 

“Yeah, but you didn’t steal that bottle, didn’t you?” Tom quirked a brow, getting another laugh out of the Norge. 

“You humor me, Tom!” Tord swiped his hand in his air, “It doesn’t matter anyway, they won’t know it’s gone. Trust me, I do it all the time!” 

Tom shrugged, “Can’t argue with that, vodka’s vodka.” 

“Ha! I like you, Tom!” He jabbed a finger into Tom’s chest, “I have a feeling we are going to be good friends!” 

“Rather have you as a friend than an enemy.” 

“Good thinking, min venn! Now,” He shifted the topic, “Mind if I take a look at your schedule?” 

It suddenly dawned on him that Tom never really took a look into the school’s layout, and after looking at his schedule, it didn’t seem to help at all when it came to pinpointing the location of his classes, “Oh fuck, yeah,” He took out a folded up piece of paper from his almost empty, wore backpack before he handed it to Tord, whom skimmed over quickly and clicked his tongue. 

“Aw, now that’s a shame. Only two classes together? At least we have lunch together, ja?” He looked over the agenda again, “Music, eh? Now isn't that interesting.” 

“What’s wrong with music?” 

“Oh, nothing! You’re just sharing the same class with Eduardo O’Neill. And he isn’t exactly the best person to be in the presence of, especially if you’re new.” 

“Why? He an asshole?” 

“Oh, the biggest. I would watch your back around that beaner.” 

Tom cringed at the slur but chose not to retort out of fear of angering the Norge. 

“Let’s see here... Your first class is in the next building over.” Tord pointed to the left, “Second floor, right by the stairs, you can’t miss it.” He gave the schedule back to Tom, removing his arm from his shoulders as he started at the opposite direction, “I’ll see you later, ja? Don’t get yourself killed while I’m gone.” 

The Norsk left; his hands were stuffed into his void colored pockets as the sea of students he was approaching parted just for him. Tom made a note on the effect Tord had on the other students. 

* * *

By the time the lunch period rolled around, Tom was already on the verge of death. Having to sit through these god-awful classes was enough, but who the Hell assigns homework on the first damn god day of school!? 

Tom almost felt a wave of relief when he entered his chemistry class and saw Tord sitting at a lab table, going at it as a notebook before he noticed Tom and waved him down, tossing the book into his book bag. 

He sat on the empty stool beside Tord, “I guess we’re going to be chemistry partners, huh?” 

“Good thing too!” Tord added, “Because I know you won’t snitch on me when I work on things under the lab!” 

Tom had no idea what that meant but he simply laughed and shrugged it off as some kind of joke. 

* * *

The second the lunch bell rang, Tord was already rushing Tom out the door despite not having his notes put away yet. 

“Come!” Tord simply said, again wrapping his arm around Tom, who was still struggling to put his supplies in his bag while Tord moved him, “There are some lovely folks I want to introduce you to!” 

The cafeteria was already full by the time the pair got there, but Tord didn’t seem too worried as he pushed Tom on, “You don’t want to eat the food here. It has HAV in it.” He led Tom to a table that sat at the far end of the cafeteria, a small group of people who Tom assumes to be close friends are occupying it. 

In the middle was a chubby kid, short and neat brown hair covered his almost egg-like head and a pair of glasses rested on the end of his weakly structured nose. His green hoodie was unzipped to reveal a gray shirt under that read the words “Smeg Head” in a simple black font, and a black cap rested on his head, a bunch of buttons and badges representing different things occupied the void color material. One of the buttons, Tom recognizes, had the mark one of those pony characters had from that one famous show. What was the pony's name again... Buttersky? 

Sitting beside him was a slightly shorter ginger boy, his face was splashed with freckles and makeup that made his already appealing ocean blue eyes even more attractive. His nails were painted a purple color, the same purple that matched the hoodie he was wearing, hidden behind a green overcoat. He definitely was a pretty boy, Tom admits, but he didn’t seem to be on the bright side, however. 

Surrounding the duo were a large variety of characters, ranging from a boy with large eyebrows, a shy looking fellow with bright blonde hair, and even a tan-skinned teen with a blue dragon-like tail attached to the back of his pants. 

“Tord!” The boy in the green hoodie spoke up, his friendly voice boomed across the table, garnering the attention of everyone at the table, “How are you, and who’s this?” 

“Oh, I’m doing marvelous! And this is that guy I was talking about! The one I met at the liquor store,” So he’s been talking about him to others, great, “His name is Tom!” 

“Wow, you two looked like you really got along,” The boy in the green hoodie exclaimed, “I swear we still have fights over stupid shit, Tord.” He then turned to Tom, who was seating himself in front of him, “Hi, my name is Edd and-” 

The ginger was already reaching over the table to grab at Tom’s round face, “Woah! Did someone stab your eyes out? How are they all black like that?” 

“I was born like th- DON'T PUT YOUR FINGER IN IT!” He slapped the ginger’s hand away, who whimpered and returned to his spot beside Edd. 

“And that’s Matt, I’ve known him since elementary school. And you’ve already met Tord, so yay! We’re all acquainted!” Edd cheered, clapping his hands together. 

“He’s in the same music class as the wetback.” Tord chimed in, snatching Matt’s chocolate milk right from his tray, taking a long sip before Matt took his drink back. 

Edd sent a glare towards Tord’s direction, “Tord, what did we say about the slurs?” 

“That they’re funny?” 

“That they’re offensive, now knock it off!” 

There it is, again, the talk about this guy. 

“Who is he anyway?” Tom simply asked, shifting his focus away from Tord to Edd. 

“Oh, he’s just some guy who treats everyone like shit.” Edd responded, playing with the sandwich he made for himself earlier that morning, “He’s got his own little group with his three friends and girlfriend.” 

“Honestly, I don’t know what she sees in him,” The kid with the bushy eyebrows joined in on the conversation, “The only thing I can think of is that the sex is great.” 

“Well, he is kind of nice to her, Pau.” Edd responded, peeling the sides off his sandwich, “He doesn’t even treat his friends with that sort of kindness. At least not publicly he doesn’t.” 

“The Hell’s his problem, then?” Tom asked, “Is he just an asshole to be an asshole?” 

“I mean, he was actually really sweet back in elementary school. Really well behaved. But after a while, he just kinda...” He paused, “I don’t know, became a jerk. I guess that’s what life does to you.” 

“I think it’s amusing how no one has noticed he always has a few new bruises every week.” Tord mentioned, “I think we all know what’s happening when he gets home every day~,” Tord said the last part singsongingly, gaining a look of disapproval from Edd. 

“Tord, we don’t assume people’s lives. He could just have... I don’t know, a weird sex life or something.” 

“Well, I don’t want to spill tea or anything,” Matt put down the mirror he was staring at to take a long sip of his chocolate milk, “But he’s not doing a good job at hiding his black eyes at all, his foundation is off by a couple hues.” 

“Ha! Even the ginger can see right through his bullshit!” 

“Strawberry blonde, actually.” Matt returned in his mirror. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Edd announced, “I’d rather not get into his personal life. I wouldn’t ask him about it either unless you want to stay in a hospital for a couple weeks.” 

“Ah, pfft,” Tord blew a raspberry, “I wouldn’t worry too much, I’d kick his ass if he laid a hand on you, min venn!” 

“Yeah, okay, Mister Twink.” Edd snickered as Tord went to playfully punch his arm. 

There was clear chemistry between these three, it shows that their relationship has persisted over time, building up an inseparable bond that holds them all together. Tom envies that. He never got that sort of friendship in his life, ever. The one thing he is the closest to is his alcohol, as the large, unhealthy sums of it help cleanse his mind of the worries and troubles that haunt him, that adds weight to his already burdened back. It allows him to forget, and he lives to forget. 

“Hey, is there a restroom nearby?” 

“No, Tom,” Tord responded, a tone of sarcasm was hinted in his thick accent, “We just shit on the floor.” 

“Shut up, Tord. It’s on the other side of the cafeteria, you can see the sign from here.” Edd pointed behind Tom. 

“Yeah, thanks.” He got up and left, shoving his hands in his pockets. The three watched him leave, confusion and concern washing over them. 

The last thing he heard before going out of earshot was Tord asking the others, “Was it something I said?” 

Of course the bathrooms were fucking disgusting. It’s like the school stopped giving a shit a long time ago and just let it go to ruins. 

Thankfully, Tom didn’t really have to go, and just needed to get away for a few minutes. He went to one of the hidden corners, so he couldn’t be seen by the many workers supervising the cafeteria as he went to check his phone. 

He must’ve only been in there for a few minutes, but he was surprised at how empty it was in there. It actually made him miss the company of his new friends, so he went to shove his phone in his pocket and leave, but was stopped when he heard someone come in. 

The guy wasn’t exactly big, but he wasn’t small in the slightest. Most of his tan skin was covered by his green plaid shirt and his grey undershirt. His brown hair looked greasy and unkempt, and his even darker brown eyes were carrying a pair of heavy dark bags under them. He had some facial hair, not exactly unusual for someone his age, on his upper lip and chin. The teen moved to the sink, taking shaky breaths as he combed through his hair with his fingers in anxious movements, and splashed water in his face. 

The vibes he was getting from this guy were both intimidating and concerning, as if his shaking form could collapse at any second. Tom had no idea if he should approach him or not. 

And when Tom got a better look at his face through the mirror, it finally hit him who he was. 

Matt was right, his foundation was a few hues off. 

But before Tom could react, Eduardo already spotted him, like a wolf spotting his prey. He immediately dropped any sign of weakness and approached the already cornered Tom. 

“Who the Hell are you!?” Eduardo’s voice was rough around the edges, a sign that it was still developing. 

Tom immediately showed his palms to Eduardo to show he wasn’t a threat, “Look, man, I don’t want any trouble-” 

Tom was immediately grabbed by the front of his hoodie, “I don’t give a shit what you want or don’t want! Who the Hell are you, and why are you watching me like some kind of fucking stalker!?” 

“Jesus Christ, dude, calm down! My name’s Tom, I’m a new student!” 

“How much did you fucking see!?” 

“I didn’t see shit, alright?” Tom knew better than to tell the truth at this moment. He started to struggle a bit from the other’s grip, “Put me the fuck down!” 

Eduardo clenched and raised his fist, “Don’t tell me what to do, asshole!” 

Tom couldn’t do anything but flinch and wait for the blow. 


	2. Chapter 2

Time almost seemed to stand still. The sounds of students’ conversations overlaying each other has fallen silent and was replaced with the piercing sound of ringing in Tom’s ears. 

His body felt like it shut off the second Eduardo’s fist connected to Tom’s temple. After that, there was nothing else. 

At first, Tom thought he was knocked unconscious on the first  blow, but was quickly proven wrong when Eduardo’s hand was removed from his hoodie and he was dropped to the floor, and he was able to open his eyes to witness the scene before him. 

Eduardo was on the ground, pinned under a livid Tord as they both exchanged blows. Eduardo’s nose was bleeding, while Tord had a large bruise forming on his jaw. At first Tom didn't want to step in to intervene, but the second Tom saw Tord pull out that switchblade, fear pooled into his stomach and he tried to get himself up. 

That was until  Edd and Matt and two other boys ran into the restroom to pull Tord  off of Eduardo, the two other boys going to Eduardo’s side. 

“The Hell’s your problem!?” Eduardo attempted to lunge back into the fight, but the two boys held him back. 

“_My_ Problem? What’s _yours_!?” Tord was trying just as hard to get back into the fight. 

“How about you stay out of this!?” 

“How about you go blow your dad’s fat cock, or did you already do that last night, you  disgusting pile of grease!?” 

“Enough! Both of you!” One of the boys holding Eduardo back yelled out, his stylized blonde hair ruffled in stress, “I am SO sorry about him, he just had a bad day. Please don’t report this, he already got a warning earlier today.” 

“It’s fine, Mark,”  Edd replied, “Just... please get him under control.” 

“Excuse me!? I’m not a fucking animal-!” 

“We will, I’m sorry again...” Mark nodded, grabbing Eduardo by the ear in the most painful way possible as he dragged Eduardo out of the bathroom, the small, brunette boy following behind and waving at everyone as he left. 

“OW! Mark! You’re hurting me! MARK-!” And with that, Eduardo was out of the sight, as well as what Tom assumed to be his friends. 

As  Edd loosened his grip on Tord, Matt immediately went over to Tom, cupping his face with his hands as he moved his head around to look for any injuries, “Aw, you poor thing.” 

“What? Is it bad?” 

“Oh, it’s a huge hideous bruise!” Matt exclaimed, “You can’t leave the bathroom looking like this! You look so horrible!” 

“It’s not that bad, Matt.”  Edd scowled, finally letting go of Tord, who put his switchblade away to go over to Tom as well, “He’s exaggerating. It’s just a small bruise beside your eye.” 

Tom snickered, “Yeah, that’s what I thought. It barely hurts anyways.” He turned to Tord, “Thanks, by the way.” 

Tord lit up like a Christmas Tree, a big toothy grin plastered on his face, “I told you I’d kick his ass if he touched you!” 

“Hopefully Mark can calm him down.”  Edd stuffed his hands in his pockets, “What happened to make him mad at you?” 

“I didn’t do shit to him!” 

“I didn’t say you did.” 

“Well, I don’t know what happened, he just came in, saw me, and tried to beat the shit out of me!” 

“That’s Eduardo for you,” Tord growled under his breath, “He does whatever the Hell he wants, and doesn’t care who gets hurt.” 

“Oh, and you don’t, Tord?”  Edd joked, quirking a brow. 

“Of course not!” He went to hug Tom’s head, “I would care deeply if my little Tommy got hurt!” 

Tom snickered, lightly shoving Tord  off of him, “You guys are fucking weird, I like that.” 

Edd went to say  something, but was promptly interrupted by the bell ringing through the cafeteria, “Looks like that’s us,” They all three helped Tom up, “If you ever need a table to sit at, you’re always welcomed at  our’s .” 

Tom stuffed his hands in his hoodie pockets, the four of them making them way out of the bathroom, “Thanks,  Edd , I appreciate it, really.” 

* * *

“You sure you don’t want me to come in with you?” Tord asked, looking at Tom as they stood outside the music room, “He could still be furious with you.” 

“Tord, I can handle myself. I’ll be fine.” Tom playfully punched Tord’s arm, “You worry too much for a guy who dresses all cool like.” 

“Well, at least take this.” He took out a handle, flipping the small but deadly blade out of its hiding spot, “If he tries to give you trouble.” 

“Okay, one, I’m not taking that.” He pushed the switchblade away from himself, “And two, why do you even have that? Won’t you get in trouble for having that?” 

“Only if you’re caught,” Tord winked, nudging the now sheathed weapon at Tom, “C’mon, at least just keep it in your backpack.” 

Tom groaned in defeat, taking the switchblade from Tord and throwing it in his backpack, “Fine, only to shut you up though.” 

“Now,” Tord pat Tom’s back almost harshly, pushing him forward a bit, “Go get ‘ em , tiger!” 

Tom just chuckled awkwardly in response, walking into the class as Tord went on his way. 

The room was already packed, the classroom’s desks were organized in pairs, two desks put side by side every couple feet. Posters about famous composers littered the room's beige walls, and a nice piano was settled in the corner. After scanning the room, Tom located Eduardo, sitting at a desk in the far back with his head down at a notebook, a hand holding a pencil lazily doodling in the book. His nose didn't seem to be bleeding anymore, so hopefully he's not mad about that anymore.

Maybe if he just sat closer to the front, he shouldn’t ever have a problem with him, right? 

Everyone was already seated when the teacher came in, his noticeably long brown hair streamed with blue highlights. A pale hand went to grab a marker to write “Mrs.  Dearling ” on the board. 

“Alright class,” She chirped, “Welcome back another year of school. I hope you all had a great summer, and I’m glad to see both new and old faces in my class! Now, I need everyone to stand up and stand in the back or front. You all have assigned seats.” 

She took out a piece of paper that was attached to a clipboard, the back of it was a canvas full of marker doodles, as everyone stood up and got out of the desk aisles. Mrs.  Dearling went up to the first pair of desks, tapping her sharp blue nails on one of the desks as she called out two names before she would move on to the next pair of desks and repeat the process. This went on for a while, both Tom and Eduardo still standing as she kept calling names. 

“And these two desks,” She read off her list, “Eduardo O’Neill and Thomas  Pinnapp .” 

Oh my God, why did his last name have to be so close to Eduardo’s? 

Eduardo immediately shot a glare at Tom, his fist was clenched. You could tell there was a low growl holding itself in his throat as he went to sit at one of the desks, Tom doing the same and trying to avoid eye contact with the other in the process. 

As the teacher finished up, she put his clipboard down, “The person you’re sitting with will be your class partner for the rest of the school year. If you want to talk to someone, or if you need notes, you’re allowed to talk to them and only them. And you better get along too, because your midterm _and_ end of year exam grade will depend on it.” 

The two glared daggers at each other. There was no fucking way Tom was going to work with him. 

“Speaking of which, I do want to talk about your midterm for a second. You’re going to be working together with your partner to write and perform a song at the talent show at the end of fall in November. Participation in the talent show is required, and your song must be an original piece! Both parties  have to be involved in the song making and song performing process. So, if you don’t know how to play an instrument yet, you better start learning. also, if you and your partner end up winning the talent show, you’ll get extra credit and your lowest grade will be bumped to a 100! Any questions?” 

Tom shot his hand up. 

“Yes, Mister...” She went to check her seating chart, “ Pinnapp ?” 

“Yeah, uh, can I have a different partner, please?” Eduardo furrowed his brows, jerking his head to glare at Tom. 

“Mister  Pinnapp , I understand that you may not feel comfortable with your partner yet,” Mrs.  Dearling put a hand on her hip, “But I assure you that I know Mister O’Neill personally and I promise you he’s a pleasure to work with! Just give him a chance! Now,” She went to grab a stack of papers and started to pass them out, “Let’s talk about the syllabus and what you’ll be learning from this class this year.” 

Tom completely zoned out of the teacher’s lecture, silently watching Eduardo’s every move with squinted eyes. Eduardo must’ve gotten bored of the talk as well because he placed the syllabus to the side and took out a sketchbook and opened it to a blank page. Eduardo lazily propped himself on his elbow as he started to sketch up seemingly unrelated and random soft lines. Lowing his head a bit to get a better look at the sketch, it eventually came to Tom that he was sketching out some kind of landscape; a huge grassy meadow sitting behind a hill, clearly the main attraction of the scene, a tree sat on the hill, bearing some kind of unspecific fruit. Despite it being a simple pencil sketch, it was a rather detailed piece, each line having a purpose and giving depth to the item it’s portraying. He, however,  wasn’t able to finish the sketch because of the bell. 

“There’s the bell! I hope everyone has a great rest of the day and I’ll see you tomorrow!” 

Tom got up and tried to leave as quickly as possible, but the second he was out of the classroom, a hand went to grab his shoulder, spinning his own body around to face the culprit. And at that moment, Tom was starting to feel glad that he took Tord’s switchblade. 

“Can you meet today?” Was all Eduardo asked, his voice was stern and was trying to hold back venom. 

“Wait, what?” Tom raised a brow, which seemed to frustrate Eduardo even more. 

“It’s a simple fucking question, can you meet with me today or not?” 

“I... I guess?” 

“I want to start on the song. S building, study room 3. It’s beside the library. Be there at 4 or I’ll kick your ass. And bring whatever the fuck you play with you.” Eduardo then harshly shoved Tom out of his way as he walked down the hallway and out of sight. 

“Ass.” Tom grumbled under his breath, rubbing the now sore shoulder. 

* * *

Tom sighed as he looked on at the building with a big “Study Building” sign sitting beside it, his bass strapped to his back, a small amp in one of his hands, and the cords to connect the two wrapped around his shoulder. 

He shouldn’t have to deal with this bullshit. No one fucking should. Out of all the fucking people he could’ve gotten partnered up with, it had to be him. 

This fat, smelly, greasy, asshole. 

It’s as if his legs also thought this was a shitty situation because they were refusing to move, leaving the eyeless teen’s feet planted on the concrete in front of the building. He could turn back now, just not show up. If Eduardo tries to go after him, he’ll just ditch school. No, skip town. Yeah, that sounds good. No one would notice anyways, aside from maybe Tord. Tord seems like the clingy type. 

Trying to delay himself, Tom slowly grabbed his phone from his pocket, checking the time on it. 

4:02 PM. He should probably go in. 

The room wasn’t hard to locate after he found the library, as there were a bunch of labeled rooms right beside it. Tom skimmed over the signs until he saw the words ‘Study Room 3’, sighing as he went to check the room through the small window and hoping Eduardo decided to ditch. 

Of course he fucking didn’t. 

The room was small, only enough to hold a small table with four chairs. In a back corner was a small set up Tom assumed Eduardo set up. There was a desk with a microphone and a laptop sitting on top of it. Eduardo was sitting in a swivel chair, holding what Tom presumed to be an acoustic guitar. The room seemed to be soundproof because Eduardo was talking into the mic, but he couldn’t hear what the Latino was saying. Without wanting to disturb him, he slowly and quietly opened the door. 

“...  Soooo ... Yeah, uh, take 1, I guess.” Eduardo spoke into the mic, not hearing Tom walked in as he went to click on something on his laptop, a beat playing from the computer’s speakers as Eduardo started to strum his guitar. 

“Free fall for now, 

Desert air won’t drown you out. 

And for a second I thought the world was ending, 

And I couldn’t... breathe in.” 

Eduardo’s singing voice was... soft. Hypnotic, even. It strained as if the words were weighing him down and cutting him deep. His eyes were closed shut, moving as if he could not only hear the music, but feel it as well. 

“ So this isn’t your time, 

Been chasing  kairos with those scapegoat eyes. 

Can’t you realize? 

Fuck the summertime, it’s you. 

So scared of overgrowing youth, 

When it’s not done... with you.” 

Eduardo had only slightly opened his eyes, but they had jerked open upon seeing Tom’s presence in the room, "Fuck!" He immediately stopped playing his guitar, rushing to turn off the sound on his laptop and set the guitar beside him, an awkward silence settled between them right after. 

Eduardo coughed into his hand as Tom rubbed the back of his neck. 

“Did you write that?” Tom tried to break the silence. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Where the Hell have you been, I thought you fucking bailed on me!?” 

“I, uh,” Tom tried to think of an excuse, before deciding to lie through his teeth, “I had to run back to get my bass, and my place is pretty far.” 

“... Right, okay.” Eduardo seemed tense, his shoulders up as if he was ready to defend himself if Tom tried anything. He went to close his laptop. 

“You got a bass? Okay, we can make this work...” Tom set his amp down, the weight of it was starting to hurt his shoulder, “I assume you know how to  fucking play that thing, right?” 

“No, it’s just for looks. I don’t know a goddamn thing about how to play a bass despite owning one.” It's only been a day and Tom was already picking up Tord's sarcastic tone.

“Don’t fucking try me, Thomas, your boyfriend isn’t here to stop me from beating the shit out of you.” He jabbed a finger towards Tom’s direction. 

“Okay, he is _not_ my boyfriend, I barely know him!” Tom defended himself, “Also, I go by Tom.” 

“Whatever, loser.” He waited for Tom to grab one of the empty chairs by the table as he set the bass on his lap, “Have you ever written a song?” 

“Well, not really-” 

“Oh boy, here we go.” 

“I have some notes that I’ve been meaning to make into a song.” 

“Okay, let me see the notes, then.” He reached his hand out. 

“Hell no! That shit’s personal! Even I don’t like to look at it! I’m not just going to give it to some asshole I barely  kn -” 

“Alright, Jesus, calm your tits. It’s fine. I understand.” He dropped his hand. 

“Wait, you do?” 

“Yeah, man. I get it. Don’t worry about it.” 

Tom paused, disbelieved at Eduardo's word. He assumed the guy was going to be a hardhead about it, “... Oh.” 

“Just play something, anything.” Eduardo leaned back in his chair. 

“Right, give me a second.” He quickly went to plug his bass into his amp, before tuning the bass for a moment and starting a solo. 

The sound that emitted from the bass was low and aggressive, starting at a fast pace and speeding up even more as the tone got darker and the volume got louder. But despite that, the sound was sharp, crisp, and almost seemed professional. Tom finished off the solo by a striking all four of the strings, resulting in a loud finish, before looking at Eduardo. 

There was a long pause, as if Eduardo was deep in thought.

“Hm,” He finally spoke, “A bit more edgy than I hoped, but I can work with it.” 

“What do you mean by edgy!?” 

“You know exactly what I mean. You’re more aggressive.” Eduardo asserted with a frown, “There’s nothing wrong with that, though. Like I said, I can work with that.” He took out a notebook, flipping through it until he found an empty page. From what Tom saw, it was a lyric book, and it was chock full of notes and songs, “What kind of song you want to go with?” 

“I don’t fucking know! I don’t even want to work with you!” Tom barked, “You seem like you write a lot of fucking songs, why don’t we just use one of yours and be done with it?” 

“Uh, because that’s fucking cheating?” Eduardo quirked a brow, “Besides, Sapphire already knows about my songs, so she’ll know.” 

“Who the Hell is Sapphire?” 

“Mrs.  Dearling , dipshit. Stop being an asshole and work with me!” 

“How the Hell do you know her anyways?” 

“I don’t see how that’s any of your fucking business. Can you drop it already?” 

“I don’t know, man, kind of weird you’re hanging out with a teacher enough to call her by her first name and she knows all your songs and shit,” Tom started, “I think that-” 

“I said. **Drop it**.” Eduardo growled lowly, and Tom, knowing what’s good for him, did, “You’re a real piece of shit, you know that?” 

“Right back at you. No wonder everyone talks shit about you behind your back.” 

Eduardo shook in anger, kicking his chair back as he stood up. He loomed over Tom, his hands planted on the desk, before he loosened his shoulders a bit with a sigh, covering his face with a tan hand, “You know what? This was a mistake.” He grabbed his laptop and his microphone, shoving them both in his backpack before grabbing his guitar by its neck with one hand and his notebook with the other. He was starting to head for the door when he spoke again, “I was an idiot to think I could work with you. I’ll write a song and show you how to play it. It’ll probably be easier that way, anyway.” 

Tom couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt about his stubbornness. He thought he was going to have to fight with Eduardo through this whole thing, but seeing him looked so defeated and then taking all the responsibilities... 

“Wait, c’mon.” Tom outstretched his hand, “Look, I’m sorry, okay? What you did earlier today was shitty, and it just left a bitter taste in my mouth. But you shouldn’t have to do this on your own because I’m being a stubborn asshole. Let me help.” 

Eduardo stood there in silence, looking at the door, then at Tom, then at his guitar, and then back at Tom, “I appreciate it, but I can do this on my own. I’ve done this for two years, and it’s the same result every time: I write the song, I teach my partner to play it, we win, rinse and repeat. I thought that maybe it could be different this year, but I fucked up and I gave you a shitty first impression, and I'm... sorry... about that.” He looked at the clock in the room, “I  gotta run anyways. See you later, I guess.” 

And before Tom could protest, Eduardo was already out the door, leaving the brunette alone in white room, the only sound being heard was the feedback from Tom’s amp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song used is Gold by Eden, it's a really nice song to sad vibe to.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyy I got super depressed and forgot I'm suppose to be writing a fanfic. My bad, fam.  
Warning, there's gonna be self harm in this chapter so

Tom got shit-faced later that night. 

It’s almost a norm at this point, to fuck up and then drown in a bottle of Smirnoff so that maybe he could forget about it for when the next day rolls around to kick him down and start the cycle again. He was laying on the roof again, shards of one of his bottles were scattered all around his body and the roof tiles. One of the larger shards was sitting lazily in his hand, his other arm had its sleeved up to give his fresh, bloodied cuts some air. His phone was resting on his slowly rising and falling chest, and his notebook was sitting beside his head, as he had scribbled in it earlier. 

Tom felt the vibrations from his phone on the chest, the default notification sound playing. He waited a few seconds before using his clean arm to lift the phone to look at the screen, the bright light from the device almost blinding him 

12:34 am 

Heyyyyy how’s my favorite eyeless friend doing? owo 

Read 

Tom squinted, not recognizing who the sender is or why he would ever associate with anyone who unironically uses ‘owo’. Tom used his thumb to sloppily send a message back, not even bothering to check for spelling. 

12:35 am 

whos the fuxp is tihs? 

Sent 

Tom was about to set his phone down, close his eyes, and embrace the late summer breeze before his phone vibrated again. 

12:35 am 

It’s Tord, silly! ^w^ 

Read 

12:35 am 

how dod you get my nulber? 

Sent 

12:35 am 

In math class, you had your phone on your desk, so I went ahead and put my number in! uwu 

Read 

Tom stared at the message, mixed emotions floating around in his drunken head. That’s... a little creepy. 

12:36 am 

Are you drunk? 

Read 

12:36 am 

maybe 

Sent 

12:36 am 

Oh no! ónò 

Do I need to come over? Are you hydrating? 

It's important to drink water! Alcohol dehydrates your body! 

Read 

Tom couldn’t help but to chuckle at Tord’s motherly behavior, but quickly stopped to clench his pounding head. He mumbled swears under his breath, dropping his phone back onto his chest. He can’t think. He needs an aspirin. 

Tom closed his eyes, any and all thoughts faded into the abyss in the back of his mind as he slipped into unconsciousness. 

He found himself embraced in a never-ending void, the world around him was mute, and he was quick to accept this dark world with open arms. Despite this peaceful aura being new to him, it was comforting to him, because throughout Tom’s life, he’s been having to fight his way through the crowd, clawing and biting, screaming and shouting, and even then, it wasn’t enough. It never is enough. His life is like an uphill battle, never able to reach the top because the summit just keeps getting higher and higher and the weight on his back keeps getting heavier and heavier. There’s always something, whether it be past trauma or his mistakes, that seems to push him back down to the bottom of the hill, forcing him to start again. He can’t take it anymore. He just wants it to stop. 

Tom could feel himself being pulled back into reality, the distance sound of a ringtone slowly coming into earshot. Tom covered his ears as the sound got louder and louder and louder and- 

Tom jerked himself up, his eyes sockets shot open as he clutched his chest to catch his breath. The sky above him was still black, stars freckled over the heavens, and the night breeze was still blowing through his spiky, light brown hair. The open pages of his notebook were dancing with the wind, and the blood on his arm was starting to dry up. 

He turned his attention to his singing phone before it went silent as he reached to check the screen 

2:12 am. 32 missed calls. 10 new unread messages. Tom opened his lock screen and scroll through Tord’s messages. 

12:38 am 

Tom? 

Read 

12:46 am 

I’m a little concerned. Let me come over. What’s your address? 

Read 

Tom could feel the fear in Tord’s messages as he scrolled down a bit farther. 

1:22 am 

Tom, this isn’t funny anymore! 

You better be asleep! 

Read 

1:27 am 

I’m calling you, you better pick up, venn! 

Read 

Before Tom could look at more, he got another call, the contact tag flashing Tord’s name. This time, he picked up, placing the phone against his ear, “Yo-” 

“Herregud! Takk Gud for at du har det bra!” Tord’s voice was strained, his voice cracked from the nervousness and stress he was enduring for the past 2 hours, “What happened!? Are you hurt!?” 

“I passed out...” 

Tord huffed through the phone, “Give me your address, I’m coming over right now!” 

“Fine. Whatever. I’ll text you the address, I’m on the roof.” He hung up, texting the street name and house number before laying back down on the sandpaper-like roof tiles. 

* * *

“Du dum faen!” Tord swore at Tom in his native language, wrapping bandages around Tom’s slashed up arm. “I can’t believe you went off and did something like this! Hva tenkte du på!?” 

“English, Tord!” Tom shouted back, grunting and cringing when Tord tightened the bandages. 

“What were you thinking!? You could’ve gotten yourself killed!” 

“I was drunk! I do stupid shit when I’m drunk!” Tom drank the water Tord brought over for him as Tord finished dressing the injuries. 

“Was your first day _ that _bad?” Tord quirked a brow, his gray eyes staring right into Tom’s eyeless face. 

“No! I... I don’t know!” 

“Do you do this often when you’re drunk?” 

“Why do you want to know?” 

“Because I care about you, kronidiot!” 

“Why? You don’t even know me!” 

Tord paused, a hand playing the collar of his black trench coat, “Well... I would like to...” 

Tom sighed as he realized he didn’t want to make the same mistake again, “Yeah. I know. I’m sorry for yelling at you.” 

“I’m sorry for calling you a dumb fuck.” 

“Wait, you called me a dumb fuck-?” 

“Ah, that in the past, venn!” He quickly redirected the conversation as he wrapped his arm around Tom’s shoulder, a signature move for Tord, “Now! Let’s hang tomorrow! I know a cool place we can hang in, really isolated-” 

“Actually, Tord, I was hoping to go talk to Eduardo tomorrow.” 

Tom watched as Tord froze up, there was something in his eye that Tom couldn’t quite read as he saw one of his eyes twitch, “I... beg your pardon?” 

“Yeah, we were supposed to do this project where we have to write a song together, but I really fucked up, so he wants to do the whole project on his own.” 

“You didn’t fuck up, Tom.” Tord poked Tom’s chest, “_ He’s_ the one with the problems! He tried to kill you the first time you two met!” 

“Well, I wouldn’t say he tried to kill me-” 

“Are you defending his shitty actions!?” 

“No, I’m not! But-” 

“He doesn’t deserve you or your help! Let him do your little project for you!” Tord waved the air, “I promise you that he isn’t worth it.” 

“Tord,” Tom started, pinching the bridge of his nose, “When he and I met up, he told me he wanted to try to work with me. And... I think he apologized for the bathroom incident.” 

“You think?” 

“He said he was sorry for giving me a ‘shitty first impression’. I assume that he meant what happened in the bathroom.” 

“And why should you accept his apology!?” 

“Because is it not fucking obvious that he needs someone!?” Tom threw his arms out, “I don’t know, man, we... we both got a lot in common, I guess.” He crossed his arms and shrugged his shoulders, “We both lash out on others, and I do it because my family fucking sucks, and because of that, I don’t have people to talk to. Maybe it’s the same for him...” 

“... You could talk to me if you want.” 

“That’s not the point, Tord.” 

He paused, before scoffing and rolling his gray eyes, “Fine. Go talk to that søppel, but if he turns out to still be an asshole, I’m always available.” Tord winked at Tom before he stood up to stretch, “Ah, I should get going. I have to get up in a few hours for school. I’ll see you at school, ja?” 

“Obviously, we have classes and lunch together.” 

“Okay, smartass.” Tord started to climb down from the roof, “Good luck, and... Ikke bli en nar i kjærlighet.” 

* * *

Tom thought of the irony of not being able to find someone when you want them the most, but they always seem to appear when it’s not at your convenience. Maybe it was the fact Tom wasn’t looking in the right places because Eduardo was nowhere to be found. 

When lunch rolled around, Tom focused his void eyes on the tables, scanning around for the brown-haired Latino. Tord would occasionally wrap his arm around Tom and force the other to turn his eyes back to the table. 

“He’s not worth your time.” Tord would say, but at this point, he’s tuned out Tord’s protests. 

Tom found himself sighing to himself when he saw Eduardo sitting at his desk in their shared music class. However, the teen seemed exhausted, his elbow propped on the desk and his face resting in his elevated palm. He was silent throughout the class, not even sparing Tom a second glance as he drifted off to sleep on his arm. Tom thought that it wasn’t the best time, so he decided against interrupting his nap. 

By the time school was over and Tom grabbed his bass, he concluded that it wouldn’t hurt to check on the study room, just to check. And sure enough, there he was, sitting at the desk in the far corner, tired eyes directly looking at his notebook as his short pencil ghosted over the paper, still. This time, he knocked before he came in. 

Eduardo jumped at the knock, a look of surprise was clear on his tan, acne covered face as Tom came in. 

“What are you doing here? I told you I was going to write the song on my own.” He sounded tired, as if he could collapse any second. 

“Yeah, well, I said I wanted to help, so I’m here.” He went to go sit in the same chair as before. 

“_ Yeeeeeah _ _ , well, _” Eduardo mocked Tom’s voice, “I don’t need you here. Go home.” 

“What are you going to do if I don’t?” Tom smirked, leaning back on the chair was it tipped back. 

“How’s breaking your legs sound?” He scowled at the other, half-joking and half-serious. 

“You like to push people away, huh?” Tom folded his arms behind his head. 

Eduardo chuckled, shrugging his shoulders, “It’s a talent of mine.” 

“Well, I’m calling it.” 

“What?” 

“I’m calling your bullshit.” 

“Even though I basically threatened to break your legs?” 

”Break away!” Tom opened his legs, getting a genuine laugh out of the Latino student. 

“Gross! Close your legs, boy! This ain’t the gay bar!” Eduardo shielded his eyes, turning away in a jesting sense, “You’re nasty!” 

“Hey! I got a laugh out of you! Give me credit where credit’s due!” 

“Ha! Not in a million years!” And he goes back to writing. 

Silence fell over the two, but this time it didn’t seem as awkward as yesterday’s predicament. Tom didn’t feel like he was invading someone’s space. In fact, he felt welcomed. Perhaps it was the fatigue in Eduardo and the more playful attitude, but the teen was definitely more relaxed and approachable than he was yesterday. It actually relieved Tom a bit. 

“What are you writing?” 

“Notes.” Eduardo said simply, his eyes still glued to the paper, “I’m stumped though. Have no good ideas. I’m just writing anything that comes into my head.” 

“You know, if you let me help you, this progress could go by a lot faster.” Tom urged. 

“Don’t lean so far back, you’ll fall over.” Eduardo responded, avoiding Tom’s words altogether. 

Tom frowned, “Dude, don’t get so stressed over this. We have a few months to write the song.” 

“There is no ‘we’. And I like to get this over with in case something happens. And, well, I can be a procrastinator, you really want me to procrastinate? 

“Sure, why not?” 

“...” Eduardo paused with a squint, before he eventually dropped his pencil onto the desk, “Fuck, you’re good.” He closed the notebook, “Fine, we can start later.” 

“Oh? I thought there was no ‘we’?” Tom responded with a shit-eating grin. 

“Final warning. These chairs aren’t stable. You’re going to fall back if you keep leaning back like that.” 

“So... You’re telling me there_ is_ a ‘we’?” He’s not dropping the subject so easily. 

Eduardo groaned in defeat, “Fine. Yes. There’s a ‘we’. You happy now?” 

“Very.” Tom ended the conversation before he quickly started a new one, not wanting to be put into another silent beat, “Do you come here every day or...?” 

“Only when I want to work on something. I don’t have anywhere else to go except my friends’ place,” Eduardo started, “But Jon’s stepdad doesn’t like me all that much, and Mark’s dads are too much for me.” 

“Jon? Who’s Jon?” 

“Oh,” Eduardo chuckled, “I guess you don’t know them, huh? Jon was that other kid with me in the bathroom. He’s kind of stupid, really, but he’s nice to have around.” He shrugged, “Mark’s that nerdy kid with the blonde hair. He’s basically the mom friend, guess he gets that from his dads.” 

“Look at you! Having friends!” Tom shot his arms out, his tone lighthearted, “Good for you! Good for you!” 

“Ha ha.” Eduardo rolled his eyes, “I’ve known them since elementary school, so that’s cool...” 

“So, you met them before you were an asshole?” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Edd told me that you weren’t so aggressive back in elementary school.” 

Eduardo almost seemed to flinch at the name, before heavy brown eyebrows lowered, “Oh. He said that?” Tom nodded, “I bet he didn’t explain why.” 

“I don’t think he knows.” 

Eduardo laughed, “That’s bullshit and he knows it!” 

“Shit, did something happen between you two or something?” 

“Why don’t you ask him?” Eduardo leaned back with a yawn. He’s doing it again, crossing his arms with tense shoulders, protecting himself from the world around him. Tom wonders if he does that often. 

He decides to drop it, and the room is silent again. 

“You look tired.” Tom finally said, filling the auditory void. 

“I am tired,” The strain in his voice made him sound defeated, “I’ve been sleeping a lot lately.” 

“Damn, that sucks.” Was all Tom thought of to say, “I have the opposite problem, can barely sleep unless I’m drunk off my ass.” 

“You drink?” 

“Uh... Yeah?” 

“You’re, like, 16 though.” 

“Almost 17!” Tom retorted, “And who cares, everyone drinks.” 

“You got me there. I drink sometimes...” 

“Oh really?” Tom smirked, “We should grab a drink together sometime.” 

“Are you asking me out or something?” Eduardo smirked back and cocked a brow, immediately getting a spastic reaction out of the other teen. 

“No! God no!” 

“Damn, okay.” Eduardo flashed his palms, a light chuckle in his throat, “Didn’t know I was _that _bad.” 

“That’s what I mea-_ FUCK! _” The loss of his balance caused the chair he was sitting in to fall back, slamming Tom’s back into the carpeted floor. Eduardo’s laughter boomed across the room. 

“I told you you were going to fall over!” 


End file.
